


The Burned Man Walks

by shorelines



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shorelines/pseuds/shorelines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Joshua Graham spares Salt-Upon-Wounds and goes with the Courier to earn his redemption in the land he burned. </p><p>Alternatively: the Courier shoves people towards better lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Burned Man Walks

You look to her as if she is the only way you'd reach redemption. She found you at the edge of a great fall, when the fire was to eat you alive once again. And when she saw you at the bottom of that wretched old canyon, a gun to a cowering man's head, she didn't fly down and pull you out — no. She threw you a rope and shot down all of your anger and your doubts as you painstakingly ascended. And when you reached the top with your own arms, she embraced you. And that was that.

 

She brings you back to the Mojave, the place you had forsaken because it had forsaken you. And she tells you their names — Boone, Arcade, Veronica, Cass. A senile supermutant and an old ghoul. Her two pets made of metal. She introduces you to Freeside, barely holding itself together. The two of you walk the Strip, its glow not bright enough it hide all of its dark secrets. You wonder if she is simply attracted to broken things when you remember that this whole land is broken, and she loves it as much as you. She can't help her compassion, and you follow her for that.

In your travels with her, you observe. You want to protest when she makes reckless (the others would say brave) decisions and endangers her own life, but you keep your silence because somehow, inexplicably, it always turns out alright. She makes her friends, and you both keep your heads.

You want to ask her how a saint like her could run with a sinner like you. She kills those who try to kill you, but never attacks first. Constantly giving chances as freely as water, baring her neck again and again, for even just a second. She laughs and says she's just lucky to have you to watch her back. You bandage the arm of a child because she asks you to.

You think of the man you spared, the first step in the long way out of the canyon. Perhaps he is still out there, alive. Perhaps he is still a killer and didn't learn his lesson.

(Perhaps he did, and is now a better man than you are.)

 

You stay at Cottonwood when she storms the Fort. She asks you to help the slaves escape, and you let her take the raft with the others, only pausing to say a quick prayer for their safety.

Silently, you thank her. If Edward was at your mercy, you know you wouldn't hesitate. End him quickly, with more mercy than he showed you, and end the burned man too. Then, maybe what you two started together will devour itself before it gets to Vegas.

You remember Jesus dined with murderers, but haven't you have done so much worse? You are different than before (you must remember this), but by how much?

"I would have killed the old you without hesitation," she says when you finally ask. "But I would die for you today. How much do you think you have changed?"

You aren't reassured, not even flattered. You are afraid. "You can't die. The people out here, they need you. You can't die for me."

She smiles. Infuriating.

The next day, some old friends of yours try to assassinate the two of you. They catch you off guard, as she is cutting someone down from a cross. You've fallen right into their trap and she aims to move in front of you but you get there first. You remember feeling a wave of relief before an explosion goes off in your chest — like the pitch fire condensed into a sun where your heart should be. The next moments are a blur but you hear sniper rounds go off and you are on the ground. She's saying they're all dead, Arcade is coming and is someone screaming? She's leaning over you and you can barely see her face through the pain and you wonder if this is what justice feels like. This is your past catching up to you.

"Well, this is your present and your future saving you, you melodramatic —!"

 

* * *

 

You wake up, somehow. She is across the room, and hurries over when you try to sit up. "Lay down, you idiot, you're going to add even more bandages on top of what you already have _—_ " she stops, takes a breath. "We were worried you weren't going to make it."

"Who is we?"

She frowns. "Everyone who knows us, of course!" Then, all at once, she seems to see you, all of you, and her voice softens. "You are loved by more than I, you know."

Tears escape your eyes at that, and she stays with you as the years come pouring out. You wonder how anyone can say that fire cleanses more than water.

The days pass; you get better. _A third baptism_ , you think. _By blood this time._

Late at night, you ask her if she thinks you could ever be forgiven. She stops, and despite her sainthood, she hesitates. You know why. What you've started has hurt her too — still chases after her. Collateral damage from your old war is steeped in the cracked earth of this desert, and will echo across lifetimes.

"You've hurt a lot of people," she says, slowly. "And not all of them would forgive you. You do what you can, but no matter what, there will still be those who resent you and what you did. That's okay. But you must accept that, and carry on anyway.

"I think that you have to forgive yourself, in a way. Make the promise to always be… better. And after all that," she glances at you, and then your tattered Bible, quick and soft. "Only God can judge you."

You fall silent. You could never forgive yourself. You nearly look away from her when she smiles.

"For what it's worth, I've forgiven you."

And quietly, you think maybe… that would be enough.

 

* * *

 

You go forward.


End file.
